


Bitra Galdrar

by LilMissLibra



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Nationverse, Sickfic, cliche economic crisis cold, it's not exactly shippy but i'm tagging it as dennorice anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23299462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilMissLibra/pseuds/LilMissLibra
Summary: Iceland can hide his magic only until he gets sick, and he's never been this sick before
Relationships: Denmark/Iceland/Norway (Hetalia)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	Bitra Galdrar

Iceland preferred to be alone when he was sick. He didn’t like to be seen like that, didn’t like it when people babied him, and he never had the energy to entertain those who came to take care of him. Oh sure, they’d tell him to rest, and no, you don’t have to sit up and talk with me. But it was a long way to his house, and once they sat there with their hands in their laps, looking for something to do, he’d start feeling guilty. No, better to avoid the whole embarrassment. He had learned to take care of himself well enough since he was young, anyway.

There was also _that_ matter. His magic. He had managed to keep that hidden since he was very young, and he intended to keep it that way. He heard the things people said about Norway, England, and Romania, that they talked to imaginary friends and met for strange rituals. No, better to avoid that whole mess as well.

He considered himself lucky that he had mostly been looked over as a child. In his early days, in Norway’s house, and in Denmark’s house, no one had ever watched him closely enough to see the sparks fly out of his fingertips whenever he got angry. As time passed, he had learned to control that. Unless he was sick, that is.

Over the years, he had learned how best to take care of himself. Make some soup, put the good wool blankets away, make plenty of ice. As soon as he felt a cold coming on, he’d shut himself up in his house and wait for it to be over.

This time was different. He had no warning, he was just suddenly hit with the news and a fever. He barely made it home before he collapsed onto his couch in a stupor. He awoke to his cell phone ringing, silenced it, and fell back to sleep.

When he woke up again, he was freezing and aching all over. His head was pounding, and his throat was sore. And someone was pounding on his door. He curled up tighter and hoped they would go away. But in his fevered state, he had forgotten to lock the door, so Denmark let himself in.

“Hey, Ice, how are you — oh my god...”

* * *

Norway had seen the news and immediately wanted to go to Iceland. The young county was in major trouble, and he wanted to be there for him. But he had meetings to attend and work to finish before he could head to Iceland’s house. Denmark, having either had less work to do or no shame in skipping it, promised to go there first to check up on the young nation, especially since he wasn’t answering any phone calls. That eased Norway’s mind, just a little bit, and he tried to focus on finishing up as quickly as possible.

However, not long after Denmark had texted that he had arrived at Iceland’s house, he called Norway.

“Nor,” he said, sounding tense, “I’m in over my head. How soon can you get here?”

“Is Iceland okay?” Norway asked, his throat tightening. Denmark had seen Iceland through some really rough times. How bad could it be that even he couldn’t handle it?

“He’s...okay...I think.”

“What do you mean, you think?”

“Well, he’s...I don’t know how to describe it. This is more your area of expertise. How soon can you get here?”

“I’m leaving now.”

Whatever was going on, he wasn’t going to just sit at work and worry. He got to Iceland’s house as quickly as possible. Denmark let him in, worry twisting his face into a grimace. It was a bad sign if even Denmark was frowning.

“I’ve never seen him like this,” he said. “I thought only you were like that.”

“Like what?” Norway entered the house and started to unbutton his coat. It was then that he realized how cold it was inside the house. In fact, he could see his breath. He turned to Denmark to give him a questioning look, but the other nation just guided him to the living room.

There was Iceland, curled up on the couch, underneath a pile of blankets. It looked like Denmark had found every duvet in the house and dumped them on top of him. Norway peeled back the layers to look at the young nation and was shocked to find the innermost blanket covered in frost. The couch underneath him was also frozen.

“Nor...” croaked Iceland.

“You have magic.” It was an observation, not a question. Not that Norway wasn’t shocked, he had certainly never seen any signs of magic in Iceland, but there was no other explanation for how the young country had become a popsicle. Now he understood why Denmark had been so freaked out.

“Draw a bath,” he commanded, replacing the blankets and feeling Iceland’s forehead. Ice cold, of course. “Make it really hot.”

“Nor...” Iceland coughed weakly, and snow burst out around him. Norway blinked the flakes out of his eyes, placing a hand delicately on the younger’s cheek.

“When did you last take medicine?” he asked.

“When Den got here.”

“Then this shouldn’t last much longer.”

“It’s going to get worse.”

“It’s alright, I’m here to take care of you. This happened to me a few times when I was younger, too.”

“You should leave. It’s going to get worse.”

“I’m not leaving, Iceland.”

The younger country closed his eyes and grimaced. Norway ran a hand through the silver hair and was surprised to feel wetness. He watched as the frost around Iceland thawed, and color returned to his cheeks. Then suddenly, Iceland was sweating and trying to push the pile of blankets off. Norway reached out to feel his forehead again, only to burn his hand. He swore under his breath and pulled the blankets off.

“Nevermind with the hot bath,” he called out to Denmark, removing his coat. It was heating up inside the house.

He had had a few deep freezes while sick before — ice magic was his specialty, after all — but he had never felt such heat.

“Nor, please get back,” Iceland choked out. “I’m going to sneeze.”

At a loss for words, Norway took a few steps back, still holding the mass of blankets. Iceland sneezed, and sparks shot out in all directions. One landed on a blanket, but since they were all now wet from sweat and melted snow, it fizzled out. The couch, however, was becoming scorched.

“Nor, what’s going on?” asked Denmark as he trudged back into the living room.

“I...don’t know,” Norway replied “I don’t know how to help you, Iceland.” Denmark stared at him incredulously.

“Ice bath,” croaked the youngest, stopping to cough up smoke.

Norway opened the freezer and found a small tray of ice cubes. Well, at least he had his own powers. He walked briskly to the bathroom and stuck his hands in the hot water. It instantly turned cold, and a layer of ice formed over the surface. As he pulled his hands up, the ice broke into small pieces. He walked back to the living room and picked Iceland up, trying to cool him down with his own magic, and carried him to the tub. All the while, he called out to Denmark to search for herbs. Steam arose from the water as he set Iceland into it, fully clothed. Well, as fully clothed as he could be when his body was burning the fabric right off him.

“He doesn’t have herbs in his kitchen,” Denmark responded. “Unless you mean pizza seasoning.”

He rattled off a list for Denmark to procure and made him repeat it back twice before he left. Iceland hugged his knees and buried his face in his arms. Norway reached out to smooth his hair back and burned his hand again. The bath water was hot again, so he used his powers to freeze it once more. The bathroom felt more like a tropical jungle than an Icelandic house. When Iceland sneezed again, a spark landed on the towel hanging on the wall, and Norway had to pat it out before it caught fire.

“How are you feeling?” he asked the younger nation.

“Like I’m going to throw up,” Iceland groaned. He pulled himself out of the tub and stripped off his wet, tattered clothes.

“What happens when you throw up?”

Iceland’s whole body was beginning to glow red. “Grab a bucket of water,” he said, stumbling half naked out of the bathroom. At a loss, Norway did as he was told and ran out of the house when he heard Iceland retching in the backyard.

It made sense that Iceland had magic. He had never realized, but he wasn’t surprised. It even made sense that he had both ice and fire magic, since his land was so volatile. But nothing could have surprised Norway more than to see the young nation on his hands and knees vomiting lava.

“Water,” he groaned between heaves. Norway offered him the bucket, but he pointed towards the grass catching fire. In a daze, Norway dumped the bucket on the fire.

“Maybe I should call—”

“No, don’t tell anyone,” Iceland insisted before vomiting again.

“Okay, I won’t.” Norway reached out a hand and froze the molten rock before it could reignite the grass. He pressed an icy hand to the younger man’s forehead and smoothed his hair back. Iceland gave him a grateful smile that looked more like a grimace.

“I’m back, Nor!” Denmark called from the house. “I got everything you asked for.”

“Bring a bucket of water,” he called in reply, freezing another bout of lava. “Bring a few.”

* * *

Iceland was burning, he couldn’t remember ever feeling this hot in his entire life. He barely noticed when Norway’s cooling hand left his forehead.

“Heya, Ice,” Denmark murmured. “How are you feeling?”

“I think I’m dying, Den,” he admitted. He felt too horrible to feel embarrassed, and at least it wasn’t Norway. The older nation laid a hand on his back and quickly pulled it back.

“Jesus, Ice,” he whispered.

“Den,” he moaned, tearing up. “I really think I’m dying. It’s never been this bad before.”

Denmark put a hand on his back again, gritting his teeth as he rubbed comforting circles. “It’ll be alright. Nor’s making something magical for you. You’ve been through worse, and you’ll survive this, too.”

Norway reappeared with a cup in his hand. “Drink this,” he said. “It’ll suppress your magic.” He held it to Iceland’s lips, and the nation gulped it down quickly. It tasted bitter, and he had to swallow it again when it came back up. It was almost an immediate effect. Iceland’s body cooled, and he no longer felt fire in his stomach. He collapsed onto his face, feeling utterly exhausted, and vaguely registered someone carrying him back into the house and laying him in his bed.

He was going to have to fend off Denmark and Norway’s questions when he awoke, but at least for now he could sleep without worrying about destroying his house. He hoped he still had some of those antacids in his medicine cabinet, though. He was going to have one hell of a case of heartburn later.


End file.
